Getting Chris Chambers
by DiggingDog
Summary: The plan was simple: I needed a date for the ball. Chris was a definite hotty. All I had to do was successfully ask him out...easy, right? Right?
1. Default Chapter

Getting Chris Chambers 

DISCLAIMER: I own neither Stand By Me nor "The Great Pretender" by The Platters. BUT, I do own a little ditty I made up myself :

"My Mummy says I'm special,

my Mummy says I'm cool,

my Mummy says I'm special,

cause I go to a special school!" (Don't worry, it's not true. It's really shit, anyway, I almost wish I didn't own it.)

"Oh yes! I'm the great pretender, ooo-o ooo-o, something eeeeeelse, oooo-o oooo-o…" It really was amazing how talented I was at singing. The trouble was, no one else thought so. Because, simultaneously, 3 voices cried out "SHUT UP!!!" Naturally, I didn't. What did they think I was, considerate? Anyway, it's not often that I'm in a good mood in the morning, so really, they should have been making the most of it and singing along with me.

I glanced in the mirror. This is where I start to talk about my perfect white teeth, full lips, bright blue eyes and fabulous, chocolate-caramel-cream-strawberry-on-top hair, right? Wrong. (My eyes are green, anyway.) In fact, the most interesting thing about me looking in my mirror was that I suddenly realised how messy my room really was. (And still is.) But that's beside the point, mainly because it is my life's goal NOT to clean it. Sorry Mum.

I bopped my way down the hall (scary, I know, especially since my bopping leaves a lot to be desired) and into the kitchen, blinding several people with my huge grin.

"What are you so happy about?" Mum asked. She sounded kind of…frightened.

"Ohh, nothing, you know, something." I giggled a little.

Mum suddenly leaned in close. "Is it…a boy?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Uh, no?" Jesus, what is it with parents? It's as if they think my life revolves around boys. Okay, so maybe it does, but it doesn't mean that I think about them constantly. Well, okay, so maybe I do, but-

"What then?" Mum had exhausted all the possibilities for my happiness, apparently.

I paused, leaning back in my chair. Why WAS I so happy?

"No idea, actually." I shrugged, and wandered over to the cupboard. Within lay my last jar of Vegemite. I'd brought over 8 of them when we moved from New Zealand to America. Still not entirely sure as to why we had moved in the first place. And why we chose Castle Rock of all places. I mean, great place, but I'm sure that Mum and Dad just pulled out a map, closed their eyes, twirled a finger, and it happened to land here. So here we came. No, actually, I think the real reason we came was because of Dad and his work. He was asked to come because he's a fireman, and there'd been a crazy amount of bushfires in the recent years (the summers just got hotter and hotter), and due to his expertise he said okay, and came. So basically, it was all just a temporary thing, one year of helping out in Oregon, then back to the old down under down under I love so well.

School had recently started again, and it was Friday. That would probably explain my cheerfulness, because as we all know, Friday is there so you know that it's almost Saturday, and Saturday is there so we don't have to go to school.

So anyway, back to the story, before I go off on another tangent. Dad was at work. Mum would be going to work that evening (night-shift at the hospital). My eldest brother, William, was still in University in NZ; my little sister, Rory, was going to the local primary school, and my older brother Daniel and I (Elizabeth, or Elle) were off to Castle Rock High. (Not, as I frequently call it, "Castle Rock College", since in America that means university. Argh.)

Anyway, it took me so long to get the perfect consistency of Vegemite on my toast that I ended up being late for school. But teachers are (generally) kind to poor little foreign girls, and my usual excuse of getting lost (which was true, since I had walked into the wrong classroom as well as missed the bus) worked just fine.

First period: English. Very sarcastic whoop-de-doo. No, I actually really like English, I just feel like I should complain about it. Slid into my seat, smiled hello at my friend Tess, tried my very best not to laugh too much at the boy in front of me when the teacher called the roll. Failed miserably.

Chris Chambers, the guy on my left, leaned over and asked me what was so funny.

"His name…" I giggled. Chris nodded, waiting for me to go on. "It's Randy!" I cackled (as quietly as I could, of course).

"And…?" He was grinning, but that was probably just because I was getting slightly hysterical and gasping for air like a wounded buffalo. Not that I've ever seen a wounded buffalo gasping for air (or a buffalo, for that matter).

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?" Mrs Coster asked worriedly.

"Not really," I gasped. "Just, may I get a drink of water?"

"Of course," she said. I staggered out of the room. As soon as the door was closed, I dissolved into a fit of giggles. How embarrassing. Particularly as, after class, Chris told me that laughter had indeed been heard inside the classroom.

"So, what was so funny about the name "Randy", anyway?" He asked as we walked to biology.

"Oh, where I come from, 'randy' means 'horny'." I waited for the inevitable explosion of laughter.

Silence.

I looked up. He was grinning at me, shaking his head in that "oh, that girl, whatever shall we do with her" kinda way. (Though, for the record, Chris is NOT the type of guy who would say anything remotely like that. Thank God.) Then he started laughing, softly at first, then louder. It struck me, quite randomly, how nice he looked when he laughed. My stomach did a little jig.

"That's not that funny," he choked.

"But you're laughing…" I pointed out.

"Just because you made such a big deal about it. I was expecting more of a…I don't know, a-"

"Funny thing?"

"Yeah." He smiled at me again, and I realised that the jig in my stomach was now more like a tap dance. With those cool tappin' shoes.

It wasn't long before I realised the truth: _I liked Chris._

It was a problem, a very big problem. A huge, elephant-sized problem…Okay, not that big a problem. It wasn't like I had a boyfriend or a pet monkey or anything like that. Though a pet monkey would be grand…

Anyway. It was just frustrating, for 2 reasons:

My "Official Crush List" was over a page and a half now. Sad? Very. Healthy? Not at all.

There were only so many boys I could actually talk to without blushing/saying nothing/saying something incredibly thick/getting sweaty hands (a problem I pick up from my dad). Chris used to be one of them. Not anymore.

The worst part was, I was in the middle of my "Get Kevin Baker" plan (the no. 1 guy on my list). Don't worry, I'll explain later.

"ARGH," was about the extent of my vocabulary at this point. Poor Tess, having to put up with a nutter like me. Though, she _was_ obsessed with rugby players (an Aussie, what do you expect?).

"Elle? Are you going on the bus?" Tess tapped me on the shoulder.

"ARGH."

"Hurry up then, you dick, or we'll miss it. Again."

"ARGH."

Looking back now, I'm afraid she was right. I was a dick. And I was only going to get worse.

dun dun DUN

Well, was it any good? (I thought it to be a bit crap, actually. And the "Randy" thing is a true story. Except without the hot Chris.) Please review. I don't care if all you have to say is "Peanuts are in my belly", a review is a review. Oh, and that stuff about the bushfires, well my dad actually did go to America for a couple of months a few years back to help out with that, so it's true, but it sounds kinda dumb, I know, lol.

DiggingDog


	2. Chapter Two

Yay! I got some reviews! Pat on the backs to you all! And this time I shall endeavour to STAY ON TOPIC. I may not succeed, but I shall do my darndest. This chapter is a bit dumb. The thing about Kevin is OTT, I know, but it isn't meant to be overly realistic. Oh, and I watched "Dogfight" last night – LOVED IT! The ending was perfect. I cried and cried. Had a shower, cried. Woke up in the middle of the night to get a drink, cried. I'm such a sook. But if you think that's bad, you should see after Stand By Me. Oh dear. ANYWAY, on with the lame chapter…

**CHAPTER TWO**

The next week, Monday morning, Tess found me in my room, pretending to snore into my pillow.

"Don't you think you should get out of bed?"

"No," I mumbled.

"Grow up. Seriously. Get. Out. Of. Bed. You have half an hour before school starts." She looked at me expectantly, as if she actually thought I'd get up.

Pssh. I thought she knew me better than that.

"I can't. Too embarrassed. Too lazy. Anyway, what are you doing at my house?"

"What are you talking about! I practically LIVE at your house." (It's true, for some reason she was always hanging around at my place.) "Now GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF BED!"

She was worse than my mother.

Eventually, though, I did pull myself off my mattress, hitting my head (as usual) on the bookshelf that was above my bed.

"Why do I even HAVE that shelf?"

Tess was waiting for me downstairs, talking to Mum. I've never had a problem with my parents not liking my friends. On the contrary, they seem to like my friends more than they like me. I could hear them yabbering away. I pulled on some clothes and rushed into the kitchen, resisting the urge to yell "TA-DAAAAA!".

I grabbed an apple, waved chao-chao to the room and, along with Tess, dashed outside to catch the bus. On the way to school, I kept getting the urge to put a paper bag over my head so that I would be unable to see Kevin Baker….and he wouldn't be able to see me. Well, okay, he would, he definitely would see me, I mean, not that many people wear paper bags on their heads.

I guess I'd better explain why I was acting so weird. (Weirder than normal, at any rate.) That weekend, my "Get Kevin Baker" plan had reached it's climax. It was the moment of truth. I was going to ASK HIM OUT. Big deal. Very big deal.

Tess and I had planned everything. We had done our research. We knew where Kevin would be on Saturday morning (walking his dog around the block outside his house), we knew what kind of girls he went for (blonde, busty things – I seriously considered dying my hair, but I was broke) and we knew what his favourite colour was (dark blue). So it should have gone really smoothly.

Trouble was, we had forgotten ONE MAJOR THING: my atrocity at handling all situations with member of the opposite sex.

Here's the gist of the conversation on that fateful morning.

**Kevin:** walking

**Elle:** stalking

**Kevin:** turns Wha- oh, hey.

**Elle:** Hiiiiiiiiii….red face, idiotic voice

**Kevin:** Um, how are you?

**Elle: **Good. Great. You?

**Kevin:** Pretty good.

**Elle:** That's good. That's great!

**Kevin:** Well, I guess I'll see you in Algebra on Mon-

**Elle:** No!

**Kevin:** scared Uh…

**Elle:** What do you think you are doing? _(What did I just say?)_ I mean, tonight. I mean, what are you thinking of doing tonight? Cause, I could you know, do it with you.

**Kevin:** Oh, I have a family thing, sor-

**Elle:** Oh! Well, I could do it with them too!_ (WHAT!)_ I mean, not _do_ it, just do…um, what I'm saying is, do you want to go out with me?

**Kevin: **Oh, crap, I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but I have a girlfriend.

**Elle:** _(You liar! You do not! I researched you, you idiot.) _Oh. Oh I see. Yeah, I definitely see that. Okay. So. Um. That's a no? Okay. _(Wind it up, **now**, come on, shut up) _Yeah. So, Monday. Algebra? Okay. But, I still like you, if you ever wanna, you know. Do something. I mean, I like dark blue too!

And it all really went downhill from there. Well, more like downmountain. Downsteepclifffromwhichthereisnoreturn. To this day (okay, this was all only a few months ago, but hey) I still can't believe how utterly bad my performance was. I cringe every time I think about it.

But back to Monday morning. We pulled up to the school, tramped off the bus and walked to form class. Along the way, Tess and I discussed the failure of the plan.

"Well, you screwed it up," (thanks, man, what input) "but it could have been worse! Hah, no, I'm kidding, seriously it was that bad, it couldn't possibly have been any worse." Tess grinned at me. How exactly did she think she was helping?

"Let's face it, the plan sucked," I said. "Next time, we just need to take into account that I'm a dick. And we need a more….crafty plan. More sneaky. More sly. More….crafty."

"Quite." She sighed, then stopped and faced me. "So who's next, Elle? It's really crunch time now. We only have two weeks before the dance. Who's number 2 on your hotty list?"

I pulled the crumpled pages out of my pocket. I had crossed off "Kevin Baker " and, underneath, I had recently scrawled "Chris Chambers". Tess leaned over and took a look.

"Oh gooooood," she exhaled.

"Why?"

"Oh…it just," her face was going rather pink. "It might help me with the guy I've chosen to go for."

"Oh, re-he-eally? (A.N. a la Ace Ventura) Well do tell! Who is it!"

"Um, do you know a guy called Gordon Lachance? Gordie?"

I paused and thought. "Can't say I do. Describe him."

"Well, he's really cute. Brown hair, big, adorable brown eyes, tall. He's Chris's best mate, so it works out perfectly!"

"Ahh! You mean GORDIE! Skinny guy, right? Ho dang, this is great!" Immediately, the wheels in my head began turning. Tess and I grinned at each other and did our token evil guy laughs.

Algebra class that morning was one of the worst hours of my life. I kept my head down almost the entire time. I couldn't risk seeing Kevin.

"Elizabeth, can you give us the answer to question four, please?" Mr Ritchie asked. Well of course I COULDN'T. I was too busy staring intently at my graffitied desktop. Needless to say, Mr R wasn't too impressed about that. He called me up to the front of the class to work out the equation on the board. (Which I got wrong the first 3 tries.) As he explained where I had gone wrong, I glanced around the class. Something was strange; something was…missing…..Oh.

Kevin wasn't even there.

**LATER THAT DAY, IN FLAVOUR COUNTRY (AKA, MY HOUSE):**

Tess and I began work on our "Ultimate Guy-getting Plan" that afternoon. We made a list of the steps we had to take:

DAY ONE: Get to know his friends. And get to know him through them. Suss out the competition. And warning: there WILL be competition.

DAY TWO: Shopping. (Not part of the plan, just needs to be done.)

DAY THREE: Casual chit-chat with guy in question. Try and get friend-of-guy to put in a good word for you and BAD word for competition.

DAY FOUR: Ask guy if he can a) help you with homework, b) tell you where something is and how to get there or c) help you carry something. BONUS TIP: injure yourself as much as possible. If you seem to be in pain, he will look after you. Great "looking into each others eyes" opportunity. Also, sprained ankle him as transport! Hopefully. Remember to start diet on DAY ONE.

DAY FIVE: Review progress and

That's as far as we got before my brother stomped upstairs to tell me that dinner had been ready for half an hour and that he'd eat my corn if I didn't hurry up. Tess and I looked at each other and performed our super tricky hand-shake.

"Good luck." She vanished into the night as I ran off to the dinner table, only to find Danny with a surprised expression and my piece of corn hanging out of his mouth.

A/N: Arghhh….This story is so UNFUNNY. Please forgive me. First day back at school today and my brain is already starting to slip out my ears. I'm sure you know the feeling.


	3. Chapter Three

Hey la, everyone. Sorry about the last chapter, the punctuation came out a bit screwy. In the words of my Japanese friend: "Prease forgive!" Lol, I just wanted a reason to say that. Thanks for reviewing, it makes my day; and if that makes my life kinda sad, then so be it. LATER: wow, I wrote this, like 2 weeks ago, and only now am I FINALLY putting it up...I thought was screwing me around, but (as usual) it turns out that I was doing something reaaaally stupid, lol. Sorry!

**StormShadow21**: Ahh! You got it! I was wondering if anyone would realise that…isn't "Emperor's New Groove" just the funniest movie ever? OTT is Over The Top. And it's all good, because for the longest time I thought that LOL was pronounced "lohl" and that it was a new slang word for "funny". I really love your sense of humour (I cracked up over your stories) and if you think this is funny, then yippee!

**Aleka**: Oh wow, WHAT a review! I feel so tiggly! And I don't even know what that's supposed to mean! Sankyuuu!

**Dark-Celeste37**: Update before YOU explode? Lol, the only reason I'm even writing this story is because you lot take FOREVER to update your stories, and I need something to satisfy my SBM cravings. But seriously, please update! And ta very much for the review, 'twas grand.

**SpikeGirl5: **Lol, I know not all Aussies love rugby, just like not all kiwis do! (I actually can't stand it, my friends are completely Dan Carter obsessed. It's so sad. Though, as they say, maybe not quite as sad as me liking a dead guy (River Phoenix)). AND GO THE VEGEMITE!

CHAPTER THREE: Day One 

Tuesday dawned bright and early. That's because it generally _is_ early at dawn. Tess and I barely spoke on the bus, we were so nervous. We wished each other the best of luck and went our separate ways (before realising we had the same form class).

During first period (history), I got bored and, with nothing better to do, pulled out my "Crush List" and started drawing pictures on it. After I had completed a truly terrible sketch of Chris I began to think about the stupidity of bringing the list to school with me. Every day. I was practically asking for it to bite me in the arse. I mean….what if one of the COBRAS found it! (Despite them not going to school.) Then, Ace Merrill would publicly humiliate me, before learning how unique I was and falling madly in love with me. This would create an exciting love triangle between him, Chris and I. Though, if it was a "triangle", that would mean that Chris would like Ace…no, it would more likely be a right-angle. Yeah, a love right-angle. Then it would finally reach a climatic conclusion, with the two guys fighting for my love. (Like them fighting would change the way I felt.) But, alas, my life has never been that interesting. That was probably why I was so intent on getting "the plan" to work.

The rest of the history period was spent trying to figure out what to say to Gordie (he sat two rows in front of me). Eventually, I gave up and just decided to say whatever came to me at the time (usually the approach I take with my homework).

After class, I threw my gear into my bag, ready to go talk to Gordie. But then I got paranoid that in my haste I had thrown my pencil case on my English assignment, and therefore would have crumpled the perfect pages, so I had to go through my bag and tidy my things up before I could continue with "the chase". By this time, he was already halfway down the hall. I ran after him, trying my best to make it look like I was just walking. Quickly.

"Gordie!" I cried breathlessly (not the world's greatest runner). He turned, startled, and I grinned, my stomach clenching.

"Hey Elle," he smiled. He was cute, I decided. Tess had chosen well. Bonus points for remembering my name!

"I was just wondering if, uh…" So much for the 'thinking on the spot' technique.

"Let me guess," he said, and sighed. "You want my body, right? Look, I don't know what it is with you girls, but I'm sorry. I just don't think it would work out."

I raised an eyebrow (okay, so I actually can't raise just one eyebrow. I raised both.)

Then he blushed. "I'm sorry, I'm just being retarded. I'm joking, really, I-" But he didn't need to say anymore because I was already giggling like a wild chicken. (I don't know what it is with my similes, but they are steadily getting worse.)

Do you ever get that very refreshing feeling when you find someone whose sense of humour is very similar to yours? That's what it was like with Gordie. And we were having a very good conversation until I decided I couldn't hold it in anymore, and-

"Chris is your mate," I blurted. It came out more as a statement rather than a question. Gordie, who I was quickly realising was very perceptive (though maybe that's not a hard thing to be when one's face goes bright red when mentioning a certain name), nodded.

"Let me guess," he said. "He's the current number one on that "Crush List" of yours."

I froze. "You…you _know _about that?"

"I'd be surprised if there was someone who _didn't_ know about it."

I double froze.

"No, I'm kidding. I actually overheard you and your friend talking about it once. But, fear not, for your secret is safe with me."

I was so embarrassed. My heart was thumping as if I'd just been running along a bridge with a train coming after me, having just dropped my comb in the river.

"Elle, don't worry. I do things like that all the time."

"Really?"

"No."

I raised my hand threateningly.

"Just, in future, lower your voice a little. Sincerely, you are one of the loudest people I've ever met." He smiled as he said it. "So anyway, am I part of the latest plan? Trying to get to Chris through me?"

"Exactly how much of my conversation did you listen to?"

"It was in the library. You're allowed to listen to people in the library."

The mind boggles.

I decided to ignore that comment, and instead gave in and told him "the plan". After all, I'm terrible at keeping secrets, and Gordie already knew most of it.

"So," I said, "what does Chris think of me? Is he, you know, struck by my ready wit and charming, debonair smile? Or can't he remember who I am?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that he spends every waking moment thinking of you, but he knows who you are. Anyway, I'll find out." We had been standing beside the door leading into the cafeteria, and when walked in, Tess, sitting with our group of friends, started waving madly at me. Gordie noticed.

"Hey Elle, who's your friend after?"

"Oh, a guy. Named Bob. Bob Jones. Jonesington."

"His name is Bob Jones Jonesington?"

"Jonesington is his nickname. Only nobody uses it, on account of it sounding so stupid."

"So, essentially, it isn't his nickname."

"Yeah. You could say that."

We fare-thee-welled each other, and I walked to Tess, trying to convey what had been said with some of my sign language. She signed back. We spent the next five minutes making hand gestures we didn't understand at each other.

Eventually I just gave up. "We're so retarded," I sighed.

"Yeah. Don't you love it?"

"Of course. I mean," I swept my hand around at the cafeteria. "All these people? They just want to be us. Well, the girls do. The guys want to be with us."

"That's funny. How come neither of us have a boyfriend?"

"Because."

"Ah."

"But."

"Mmm?"

"We're getting there."


	4. Chapter Four

Oh wooooow! I updated. Shinjirarenai, yo! It's really short, but I felt I had to put something out, so this is it. Probably not very funny, but ah well. Thank you to the reviewers, you warm my heart. Well, no you don't, but you do warm my left elbow, and this I thank you for. I was gonna do shout-outs but I'm too gosh-darn lazy and Scrubs is almost on AND I haven't done my Japanese homework, so I'll do them next time. Chao chao, darlings!

**CHAPTER, WHAT IS IT NOW, 3? 4? **

After lunch, we had last period. (A/N: Don't know how periods work in the US, sorry) Spanish. Loving the language, hating the teacher. And, as often happens to me, during Senora's incredibly long speech about the formation of irregular verbs in the conditional tense, I dropped off to sleep, head on arms.

And had the oddest dream.

Chris, Gordie, my Mum and I were climbing Mount Everest. When we got to the top, Mum handed me a pair of tweezers, and told me I had to try and pick up the mountain with them. It was just starting to shift when-

"Isabel? IsaBEL!" (My teacher had decided to call me by the Spanish form of my name.) "Why she crying?" She asked the girls next to me. I flicked my head up.

"I'm not crying."

"Listen, Isabel, any problem you have, please, come to meet me."

Yeah. Right. I can just imagine it….

"Senora, here's the thing. I like, I mean, really like, this guy. He's…he's just…wow. You know?"

"Si, si. But, Isabel, can you tell me what his name is?"

"Um, Chris. Christopher."

"Ah, si. And what is this name in espanol?"

ARGH. No.

Anyway, after Spanish (how can an hour take so long?) I walked out to the bus. And inside sat my nemesis. My enemy. As my little sister says "my emeny". The afternoon bus driver. I, a mere lass of 16 who was too lazy to get her licence, knew more about driving than he. In the past 2 weeks he:

knocked the mirror off a car

ran over the curb

almost ran over an old lady

ran over the curb

smashed into the back of another bus

and oh yeah, and he ran over the curb

Needless to say, we didn't get along. I gave him my best evils as I got on. Though maybe they were too evil, as I had squinted at him so hard that my eyes were closed and I walked into his chair. I tripped. And fell ON him.

Oh! The horror! The tragedy! The smell! My face in his chest. His shirt unbuttoned one too far. White hair in my face! I threw myself backwards, stammered something like "thepotatoesareonfire," and dashed to my seat.

I covered my face with my hands. Oh dear God. That was worse than being closed in the bus doors, worse than rolling down the stairs that time. I was mortified. After a lifetime of embarrassing myself, I was used to it, but this…this was a new level of shame.

It was when I took my fingers off my eyes and saw Tessa opposite me almost pissing herself with silent laughter (the enormous retard can't actually laugh out loud) that I realised I wasn't in my usual seat. And then I died. Because sitting next to me was the one, the only….

(And no, it wasn't Chris.)

MICHELLE. My nemesis. My enemy….basically the bus driver in female form. Young, annoyingly pretty female form.

"Elizabeth, I'm actually waiting for Becca to sit next to me. Do you mind?" She smiled at me.

Normally I would have gone to sit next to Tessa. But I've always had a temper, especially when I commit social suicide by getting a little too friendly with a bus driver. (Why do I put _myself_ down?)

I looked at Michelle and grinned. "No, I don't mind sitting next to you at all." I had to fight to keep the grin on my face because that comeback was so characteristically LAME that it made me want to cringe.

Michelle looked disgusted. "Look, Elizabeth, I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but…" she trailed off. Surprising, because she wasn't the type of girl to trail off willy nilly. Heh, I just wanted to say "willy nilly".

She was looking at the door to the bus. For, walking in, was the one, the only…

(And no, it wasn't Chris.)

GORDIE. Next to me, Michelle sat up straighter. She tucked her hair behind her ears then pulled it back out. She smiled.

It really made me wonder how obvious I was when it came to the guys I liked.

But then I put 2 and 2 together, and a few quick finger-counting calculations later, I came up with 4. But that's all besides the point, because I had just realised that MICHELLE liked GORDIE. A little more pondering on my part, and it hit me that that would screw up The Plan for Tess! I had to do something. (Just so you know, I'm not usually this slow. But it was a Tuesday afternoon – what can you expect!)

But what?

I needed to hurry, because at the rate Michelle was going, she'd be flashing him soon, and then all would be lost for Tess. But then….aha! My plan was simple, yet genius. Though mainly just simple.

I went and sat next to Gordie.

"Hey Elle," he said. I smiled over my shoulder at Michelle, who was looking rather perturbed. To say the least.

The bus was pulling out as I asked him hopefully if there was any news.

And what he said next was definitely not what I expected.


	5. Chapter Five

Virile vagabonds! It's been SO LONG since I last updated! Thanks to all who reviewed, like, a year ago. Thumbs (up, naturally) to you all.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Oh yeah. Sorry, Elle, completely forgot to ask him."

I stared.

"You fool!" I cried.

He gasped. "Fool? How dare you!"

I screwed up my face at him.

"Attractive."

I stopped immediately.

"You know," said Gordie loftily, "I do happen to be going over to Chris's house this afternoon. You could come along. Have some eats, hang out, search for any secret shrines in his closet devoted to you, you know, the usual."

It was all I could do to keep from huggling him.

When we got off the bus, we were a block from Chris's place. Tess was with us. I hadn't really wanted her to come, I mean, she really cramps my style. No, I'm kidding. I mean, she would do, but I have little style to speak of. So little, in fact, that it would be near impossible to cramp. Nevertheless, she had just invited herself.

(Earlier on the bus)

ELLE: Where does he live exactly?

GORDIE: Oh, just a bit fur-

TESS: (popping up behind us randomly) What? Who? Chrig?

ELLE: Argh! Don't do that! Why must you always surprise me like that? And why the hell are you calling him Chrig?

TESS: It sounds cute! You could call him Chrigy.

ELLE: Hey, I could! Not.

TESS: No, it would be a tad silly really.

ELLE: Let us never speak of this again.

GORDIE: Elle, this is our stop…

TESS: Come on then! We won't be able to see Chriz if we don't get off now…

She's completely crazy.

Anyway, we got off the bus and started walking towards Chriz's house. Crap! I mean, Chris. Chris Chris Chris Chris.

Later, (we're slow walkers and I had taken off my shoes while trying to teach Gordie the haka) we arrived. It was a bit of a rundown house. The grass was long, and Gordie warned me that there might be broken bottles (he's such a mum) and, taking his advice to heart, I hopped around the lawn on my tippy-toes.

Gordie walked up to the door, pushed it open and popped his head into the hallway. "Chris?"

(Tess was elbowing me and whispering "Little does Gordie know, he only answers to his real name. Which is Chrit." I told her that she only answered to twit. She nodded soberly.)

Chris eventually came to the door, holding a dishtowel in one hand and a glass in the other.

"Hey," he said. "All of you," he added.

"They followed me here, I don't know why," explained Gordie. "I guess it must just be because of my-"

"-body, yeah, I know," Chris said. He looked kind of embarrassed. "Do you guys want to come in?" He was giving Gordie some kind of meaningful look I didn't understand, but he looked adorable doing it, so I grinned cheezily.

At the time, I thought that he just didn't want us to go inside his house. I mean, for all he knew, Tess could have been a kleptomaniac or a hypochondriac or something. In fact, it wouldn't come as a surprise….but, later, after Gordie had explained a few things to me, I realised that he was ashamed of…well. You know. Alcoholic father. All round fucked up life. (Of course, that just made me like Chris even more. As all girls know, nothing makes a guy as special as a past and some problems for us to help him get over.)

"Why don't we go get a burger?" suggested the Gordster. Agreeing, Chris and I leapt upon Chris's reliable stallion and Gordie pulled Tess atop his faithful pony, and together, we galloped off into the sunset, never to be heard of again. They say that sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear our voices, singing (badly) in the rushes next to the old bridge.

Something like that, anyway.

Actually, we got into Chris's terribly CRAP truck (which he loved completely, no idea why or how) and drove off down the road. And when I say drove, I mean putted. And when I say putted, I mean walked, because the bloody thing stopped a few metres down the street, and we had to go the rest of the way by foot.

Eventually, we got to the local restaurant, "Pete's Patties" (which everyone (i.e. just me) called "Pat's Peteys"). It had been a long walk in the scorching sun, and I was dying for something to drink and/or eat.

"I'm dying for something to eat and/or drink," I said. It was a special skill of mine to actually pronounce the "/".

We got a table and made ourselves comfortable. Tess, Gordie and I ordered. While we waited for Chris to make his decision, I noticed that Tess was trying to look at Gordie without him seeing her. Interesting tactic.

Gordie glanced up and smiled at her. "So, Tess," he began. "Hows Bob Jones?"

"Huh?"

"Jonesington. Elle told all about him."

"Really? What did she say?"

"That his nickname wasn't Jonesington. And that he's your current…" Gordie glanced quickly at Chris, who was still debating over the chicken burger and the Hawaiian burger, and whether cost was more important than quality. "…your current mission," he whispered.

"Yes," I said quickly. "Things are going very smoothly."

I elbowed Tess in the ribs. You have to be cruel to be kind. (Of course, this saying only applies to others. If anyone ever tried using it on me, they'd find a pencil up their nostril.)

Tess glared at me, but she's not always an idiot, and she decided to let me explain it what Gordie and I were talking about at a later date.

Then something incredible happened!

Chris ordered.

He chose the cheeseburger.

It was a momentous occasion for all. Tess and I applauded. And he BLUSHED. It was the cutest thing. Nothing could ruin this moment! Well, except for one thing.

And it had just walked in.

TO BE CONTINUED

Ohh. Cliffy. I always hate cliffies, except when I write them. Lol. Please review! Sorry about the rather lamefulness of that chappy, I haven't written this story for yonks and I kind of lost my sense of the story. Poos.


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